Egg Slag, Suds, and Sparkmates
by optimus prime 007
Summary: After a wreck, Optimus desperately needs a cleaning so Elita helps him.Also, since said SIC was involved, Prowl also needs a cleaning.So of course Jazz is more than eager to help.Mature rating for hot, steamy shower scenes. Optimus x Elita. Prowl x Jazz
1. Chapter 1

First of all, congrats to CD aka Shizuka Taiyou! She's graduated from High School! Way to go girl! Welcome to the real world! Ok, maybe not yet. I took baby steps into the real world by going to college. Still, congrats!!!

Second, Plenoptic wrote a fantastic fic using my OC Kaceystar and paired her up with Jetfire. It's an awesome read! And HOT too. Go read and review so that she finishes it up as soon as she's done with finals! Good luck chicka!

Finally, this new one-shot fic is ALL Bunnylass' fault! Ok, maybe it was mine when I showed her the Optimus flexing his muscle by throwing the cargo trailer full of an M&Ms commerical. But still, the egg bit I blame on her which spawned this fic!

Summary: Optimus Prime gets egged and it's up to Elita to clean up her mech. And after hearing the good news, I decided to do one with Prowl and Jazz as well! A gift to the grad! Chapter one will be Optimus and Elita. Chapter two will be Prowl and Jazz.

**Author's notes**: italics denote comlink chatter, '…' denote bond talk.

**Warning**: Mature rated for a reason. Hot steamy interfacing in the shower here folks. So enjoy.

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**Optimus and Elita**

Elita-One looked up from the datapad she was reading at the sound of the familiar, heavy footfalls of her mech. Sure enough, Optimus Prime stormed in fuming beyond all believe and looking…well to put it mildly…looking far less than his usual regal, shiny, pristine self.

"Dare I ask?" she questioned softly when her olfactory sensors picked up a most foul odor.

Optimus growled and grunted as he dropped into his chair behind his desk. That was all the acknowledgement she received for he started hammering his fingers angrily on the computer's control panel.

"Well, can I ask why you're back from your mission two hours early?" she questioned and this time was blatantly ignored.

Well that would not do for the femme! Sparkmate or not, when Elita asked a question she expected an answer, especially from her sparkmate. So she let him know exactly how she felt at that very moment.

Prime sighed, pushing his anger aside when he felt the poignant annoyance and aggravation from his sparkmate for apparently ignoring her. Honestly, he was so fragging pissed off that he could barely focus on what he was doing. In fact, he actually had no idea what he was doing at the moment!

"I apologize, my love," he spoke smoothly, sending waves of his affection for her over their bond hoping to sooth her angered spark. "It was not my intention to brush you off so rudely. May you repeat the question for me please?"

"I was just curious as to why you returned to the base a full two hours early," she replied, happy to have his full attention. "And also why you look and smell as if you were rolling around in waste receptacle."

"For that you'll have to ask my _**Second**_ in Command, who is fragging lucky I didn't kill him for disobeying my orders!"

"Prowl? You are talking about Prowl? Your most loyal, trustworthy, competent officer."

"Yes! He made me wreck into several vehicles, one of which some farmer's truck fully loaded with eggs and chickens! Do you have any idea how sticky I feel right now? Not to mention the feathers are stuck to me like they're glued on! It's disgusting!"

"And smelly," she replied waving the air around. "I didn't think eggs smell that bad unless they were rotten?"

"No, that was the dump truck that explode spraying the majority of it contents on me when Prowl missed his target!"

"Don't you think you should have hit the wash racks before gracing me with your presence smelling like…slag?"

Again Optimus sighed, glancing down at his filthy, vulgar, repelling armor.

"I'm sorry, Lita. I was just so angry I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Never mind that," she smirked, rising up to her feet. "Let's just get you cleaned up."

"_**Let's**_?" he inquired, raising an optic ridge at her.

"Processor out of the pit, Orion," she mockingly glared at him. "You're not to touch me until you're spotless and odor free."

"Ah, but I _**can**_ touch you, my lovely Ariel," he purred deeply, making her spark tremble with excitement.

"Move it you sexy beast," she grinned, sauntering ahead of him.

Optimus was quick to follow his femme enjoying the lovely view of her petite feminine form, especially the way her aft moved when she walked so elegantly. Now if he could just…

'Processor out of the pit,' she chided him over their bond, feeling his lust for her starting to smolder.

'You didn't say I couldn't look, love,' he responded playfully.

'Save those urges until after you're clean. You will not be making love to me like that!'

_**VRROOOMMM!!**_

Just like that, Optimus transformed and raced past her, honking at innocent Autobots to get out of his way. Elita was flabbergasted for a long moment that her mech dared to break Prowl's number run rule of no racing in vehicle form in the hallways before she too transformed and chased after her sparkmate.

Even though her mech was the fastest mechanism on wheels because of his legendary strength, Elita's alt form, a 2009 Mazda RX-8 R 3 – cherry red with a rear wing spoiler – was able to take the tight turns better and easily catch up to her mech.

"_And just what do you think you're doing?_" she questioned, getting right up to his bumper but not touching it.

"_I thought that was obvious!_" he laughed, teasing her over their bond with dirty thoughts of what he wanted to do to her in the wash rack.

Not that he had to give Elita an incentive at the moment. She was more than in the mood. It'd been a long time since they were this playful where they didn't care who witnessed their foreplay antics. And her interface systems were already over heated with anticipation of her sparkmate taking her.

So when Optimus power-slid to a stop in front of the door their quarters and transformed, Elite nearly overloaded on the spot. Despite the messiness his engine purred in just the right way that always aroused and charged her systems. The look of pure desire, love, and lust blazed brightly in his optics as he watched her transform before him. Even _**his**_ interface systems were so energized, Elita wondered how her mech was able to restrain himself!

"Remember, no touching until you're clean," she reminded him even though she was desperate to feel his large gentle hands caress her or feel his massive frame pin her down.

"Then lets hurry," he rumbled, quickly tapping in their access code and unlocking the door to their quarters. "I'm not sure how much longer I can restrain myself!"

Elita hurried inside, heading for the wash rack in their private wash room while Optimus entered and dealt with locking the door. He sent a quick text communiqué to a couple of his high ranked officers that he was not to be disturbed for any reason. Then he shut his comlink system down to ensure no interruptions and headed for the wash rack.

"Solvent is all ready for you," Elita smirked, having already extended the showerhead's hose.

Optimus stepped into the large shower stall and let his femme start to hose him down. The instant the solvent hit his armor he started to feel immensely better. Even the lingering smell was beginning to dissipate.

"You're so beautiful," he purred, wanting desperately to simply caress her face.

The femme smirked up at him then playfully sprayed him in the face. He was startled for a moment making his optic covers blinked rapidly. This of course elicited a spasm of giggles from his mischievous femme which quickly turned to a few shrieks of surprise when he grabbed the showerhead and turned it on her.

"Ok! Ok!" she sputtered, closing her optic covers and putting a hand up attempting to block the solvent. Optimus stopped his attack on her chuckling deeply at her. She smiled at him, spraying him in the face one last time before focusing back on the task at hand. "Let's get you cleaned up then."

Despite her mech's massive size it didn't take long to cover him with a thick layer of solvent. Then she turned the solvent off and started the enjoyable task of washing her mech down. Something they've done to each other on several occasions. And back on Cybertron there were times it was the only times to spare for them to be together because of the war.

Taking the wash towel she started on his left shoulder, massaging, scrubbing, caressing the strong plated armor and delicate the crevices working her way down his arm to his hand. Once the left arm was done she performed the same meticulous duty on the right shoulder and arm.

Next came her favorite part…his broad, massive chest that she loved to lean against for comfort or watch spread open before they spark bonded during moments of pure ecstasy.

Optimus sighed, shuttering his optics. Only Elita had a way of washing his chest that could make him instantly aroused and relaxed at the same time. He was relaxed enough to enjoy the pleasurable sensations of her delicate hands smoothly stroking his armor or her nimble fingers delving into the gaps and stroking…stimulating the underlying, very sensitive protoform.

His lips were on hers suddenly. Only long enough to get a delicious taste of her before he pulled back. The brief kiss was enough to make Elita's legs tremble and hands shake. Her spark pulsed wilding within her chamber eager to connect with its mate. She couldn't recall the last time she wanted her mech this badly as her processor was already in a euphoric state.

"Turn around love," she murmured.

With a pleasant sigh, Optimus did as instructed. Elita didn't rush, even though her interface systems were screaming, begging, ordering her to hurry it up. But she wouldn't give in to her temptations just yet. Her mech deserved to be pampered from time to time. Plus, this elongated their private time together as she meticulously cleaned his back.

Only when she was satisfied did she move on to her next favorite parts of his gorgeous anatomy…his powerfully strong thighs.

A soft moan sounded from his vocal processor when she slowly slid the wash towel down over his aft to in between his legs. She literally felt the heat radiating from his interface systems as she spread one hand over his inner thigh while the other hand started cleaning the outside and front of his thigh. One thumb extended and teased him, smoothly caressing the sensitive plating directly between his legs over and over.

His entire form shuddered so hard that bubbles from the frothed solvent popped off him and floated in the air. He started panting to cool down.

"Elita…please hurry," he voice quivered, slightly shifting his legs further apart, he was straining hard to not give in just yet and Elita could feel this through their bond.

The femme acted accordingly, always in tune with her mech and knowing exactly what he needed.

"Show it to me, Optimus," she whispered provocatively while continually stroking the plating between his legs that was connected directly to the base his interface panel. "I want to see it…I want to touch it."

Optimus shuddered again and his resolve crumbled instantly at her words or more the sensual tone of her voice. The panel retracted and his fully aroused interface rod extended. He felt her tender fingers slowly stroke the sensitive plating between his thighs, slowly moving up to the base of his rod.

Then he inhaled deeply, his two large hands shot up to brace himself against the wall when Elita's other hand reached around and gently grabbed hold of him. It had been such a long time, since the beginnings of their relationship when they spent hours simply exploring each other, that Elita pleasured him in this manner. A long time and yet she was still quite skilled at it.

The slick solvent only added to the pleasant sensations pulsing through him as her hand stroke, squeezed, and fondled his interface rod over and over. Up. Down. Smoothly around. Slipping over and around the tip of his rod then gliding along the underneath side, then her hand encircled it and slid back down, gripping it gently.

The pattern was then repeated again and again. The friction was slowly building. Her hand was moving just a little faster each time. Her grip was even becoming even tighter and tighter until…

Optimus moaned loudly and panted heavily. He was going to overload very soon now only he didn't want to, not without her.

"Ariel…please…I can't hold back…any…longer…I want…"

He growled, cutting himself off doing everything in his power to not overload just yet. Frag…he was _**so**_ close too! One word…one more…

"Ariel…"

"Don't hold back, Orion, my love," she whispered. "Let it go."

His growl reverberated off the wash racks walls as his overload rippled through his systems. After several long moment once his overload had passed, Elita smiled upon seeing that familiar look of absolute bliss on Optimus' face plates as his form complete relaxed. That wasn't at all easy pleasuring her mate in that manner with the responses she was able to elicit. Her own interface systems were complaining, imploring her to be released like her mech's just were.

The mere thought of having him inside her motivated her to finish what she started. And finish quickly!

When Optimus emerged from the euphoric cloud his processor was lingering in he felt Elita's hands slipping and sliding hurriedly over his thighs and down his calves. He smiled dreamily down at her, feeling as if he was the luckiest mech alive. There were moments such as this when he couldn't believe she was his…all his. Her spark belonged only to him.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Time to rinse you off now and inspect you," she smirked up at him.

"That mean I get to touch you now?"

"Tempting…but no."

Optimus gave her that mechanopuppy look that melted her spark with his bottom lip sticking out.

"Some things never change, Orion," she commented, grabbing the hose and turning the hot water on then sprayed that look off his face.

"Nope they don't. You're still as beautiful as the day my optics first spotted you, my Ariel."

Elita laughed as she continued to rinse him off, making sure to get between the gaps of his armor, "You were such a cocky mech when you walked right up to me. What was that line you said?"

"You don't know it yet, but you're my girl," he chuckled. "Magnus said I was a few nuts and bolts short of a fully functional processor. Then he laughed at me when you threw that fruity energon drink in my face."

"But you never gave up," she smiled fondly at the memories.

"I just knew my spark would desire no other femme but you."

"I love you for that, Optimus," she sighed, reaching up and caressing his face. Primus, she loved him so much. "Now, let's see if I got all the filth off you."

"You know, I was thinking we need to take a few days…just you and me, no datapads, no interruptions," he mused as his femme careful roved her optics and hands over his wet armored frame. "I know a couple of place we can go and just be alone. Even if it's just for a day."

"Sounds nice. There is still so much of this planet I would like to see," she said, grabbing the cleaning towel and rubbing at several spots of egg that was still stuck like glue on his back armor. Of course when the towel wasn't working she actually had to scrape at it with her finger.

"OW!"

"Oh, stop whining you big sparkling!"

"You know I thought you'd be a lot…OUCH…gentler with me for suggesting a vacation!" he grumbled.

"Well, this egg slag isn't coming off with the towel. I actually have to scrape it off."

"Just be…OW…careful," Optimus said, then growled softly. "You're killing the mood, my love."

Elita stopped instantly.

"Is it just on my back?" he questioned over his shoulder.

"From what I can see, yes."

Optimus was on her in instant. Mouth firmly over her hers, body pressed into hers, hands stroking and squeezing her making her moan. The towel dropped and the hot water hose was forgotten. Elita's own hands were desperate to touch him, to hold him. Primus, she couldn't get enough of him and there was more than enough to go around. That flamed passion between them had died down just a little bit there was now a blazing fury within their sparks.

"Optimus…please…" she shuddered during a kiss, when his hand reached down and clutched her aft tightly.

Understanding her plea, his hand slid down the back of her thigh slowly to her knee then lifted her leg up around his hip. Then he quickly reached down behind her other knee and lifted it up. Elita rocked her hips against him aggressively, her port already anxiously waiting to claim its prize.

Strong powerful, masculine hips thrust up deliberately again and again and again as they're lips waged their war of passion on each other assaulting their necks, faces. Large hands stroked, grabbed, and squeezed her aft to heighten her pleasure.

Actual steam started to waft up into the air as both their bodies were running so hot now that it was drying the water off them. Neither paid attention as they were so absorbed in their interface session.

"Slag it!" he suddenly growled thrust up at her with frustration. "You'd think I'd mastered this by now. Elita…a little help please?"

"Sure thing love," she smiled, reaching down between them and grabbing hold of his interface rod. She squeezed it hard but not too hard.

"You're such a dirty femme," he murmured between his kisses as she stroked and fondled him. "Are you teasing me? You are. Aren't you?"

Elita smiled as she kissed him on the lips. She didn't tease him for long, her own desire to feel his rather large rod within her port was far to arousing to ignore any longer. With her hand she finally helped to position him, placing the tip of his rod just near the circumference of her port.

Optimus broke the kiss and reared his head back slightly to watch the look on his femme's lovely face. He always loved to watch her face when he pleasured her. He was generous by nature and it delighted him immensely that he was able to satiate his femme. Her head tilted back, optics closed, and mouth fell open, letting out a long quivering moan as he slowly slid deeply into her hot, lubricated port.

Her small hands gripped his shoulders tightly and started rocking her hips against his driving hips, taking what he was giving to her, giving as much as she was taking. Some things they disagreed on but together like this they were always in perfect harmony with one another.

She loved the feel of him plunging deeply, gently within her. His interface rod was slick with hot lubricants that made it glide effortlessly in and out. Her thighs wrapped hard around his hips and her port tightened around his rod when he thrust upwards, ever so gently against her.

The femme's pleasurable moans echoed in the wash rack. Her hands gripped on tightly to his shoulders. Her hips grew more restless against his. Optimus continued to watch Elita's facial expressions for signs of her overload. He could always tell what she needed by the look on her face.

Right now she was biting her lowing lip in concentration as she rode him out. Deciding she needed more, he suddenly drove his hips against hers hard and fast. She gasped loudly, mouth wide open, optics shuddering. He did it again, making her cry out even louder that before. Again and she started begging for more. Harder. Faster. Faster. Harder.

"Oh Optimus!" Elita cried loudly, falling against his chest as her overload suddenly just erupted through her systems.

Optimus smiled, slowly moving within her as her overload slowly quieted down. He tenderly kissed her face over and over as she trembled in his arms, panting heavily. Carefully he adjusted her form, cradling her with one hand under her aft so that he could caress her face with the other.

"I love you so much Elita," he whispered, enjoying the feel of his femme so close to his spark.

"Love you too," she murmured, leaning her face into his affectionate touch. Satiated look on her faceplates. Form to completely relaxed in his arms. Then her optics snapped open. "I'm so sorry! I couldn't control it!"

"Shh, it's quite alright my love," he cooed, kissing her softly. "Watching you was pleasure enough."

"Still…"

"Think nothing of it," he smiled, leaning his forehead against hers. "Now that the lust is out of our systems, I can take my time pleasuring you."

"Is that a promise?" she asked expectantly.

"As long as you find a gentler way to get the fraggin egg crust off my back armor, it's most definitely a promise," he purred, nuzzling his nose against her face.

Elita smiled when he kissed her. And as the kiss deepened she quickly accessed the internet and found a remedy for cleaning egg slag off cars.

* * *

Up next will be the Prowl and Jazz chapter! I'm writing it as fast as I can CD!


	2. Chapter 2

OMFG! Sorry it took so long! I've never written an all out mech with mech interface scene before. Seemed easy enough. Wow, was I wrong! Lol. I think I pulled it off. I hope anyway. Prowl and Jazz were being very difficult when it came to the actual interfacing part but I whipped them into shape. Oh, and this chapter ended up being 4 pages longer the Optimus and Elita's! What can I say, Prowl got out of control!

So, enough of that slag! Again, this was for CD since she's now a real adult now having graduated from high school! Gratz girl!

**Author's notes (the terms will make sense when you get to the interface scene)**: In car terms, a cylinder is 1) the piston chamber of an engine or 2) a chamber in a pump from which the piston expels the fluids.

**Author's warnings: ADULTS ONLY! THIS IS MECH AND MECH INTERFACING HOTNESS WITH SOME FLUFFINESS SPRINKLED IN BETWEEN. If you don't like the idea then don't read.**

Again, this is my first attempt at a mech with mech interface scene. Please be nice when you review.

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**Prowl and Jazz**

The music was loud and jamming. Jazz's hips, legs and arms, moved in perfect rhythm of the beat. His optics kept careful watch on the large LCD TV mounted on the wall while his feet tapped out the beat on the dance pad – specially made for mech's like him, Bumblebee and the twins who loved video games in their down time.

The saboteur usually only played them when Prowl was away on a mission or had an overnight shift in the command center since the SIC never got into playing the video games. With his sparkmake currently away on a mission, Jazz was making the most of his time since he had to beat Sunny's record. No way in pit was Jazz, the master of rhythm and beat, gonna let that slagger beat him at his best game!

"Hey Prowler!" he cheered during one maneuver where he spun around, catching a brief glimpse of his sparkmate. "You're back early. Give me a minute to wrap this up."

"Street Dance?" Prowl asked, accusingly, optics focusing in on the video game. "What do you need a video game for? Don't you dance enough as it is?"

"Ah, come on, you know you love watching my hips in action," Jazz smirked, purposely over exaggerating his hip gyration so his aft stuck out a little more towards Prowl.

"Jazz, please," Prowl said in that 'I'm not in the mood for fun and games' tone which of course meant something was wrong. Prowl didn't care to play the video games but he always enjoyed watching Jazz dance.

Jazz could feel his sparkmate was…irritated over their bond so he quickly stopped and turned the game off. When he turned around the smell that hit him was nothing to the look of his bonded sparkmate's armor. Prowl's normally white gleaming immaculate armor was smeared with Primus knows what!

Pfft, no wonder he wasn't in the mood!

"You look like slag run over twice. What the frag happened?"

"You don't want to know," Prowl groaned, his doorwings twitching agitatedly. "Just help me get this egg yolk off my door wings please. They feel sticky and very unpleasant."

"How about we hose you down first to get rid of the stink?" Jazz smirked.

"Do I really smell that bad?" Prowl asked worriedly.

Jazz nodded and then asked, "What's in your hand?"

"Oh…a remedy I picked up from Wheeljack for cleaning off dried, crusty egg yolk. I hope," Prowl shuddered. "Knowing Wheeljack it might make me explode."

"No way man. The only way you're going to explode is from me giving your systems one processor blowing overload!"

"I'm not really in the mood for that Jazz. I just want to get cleaned up and feel normal again, please."

"Alright, I can take a hint," Jazz smiled, raising his hands up in defeat. He wasn't about to give up just yet. Frankly, the smell couldn't even deter Jazz right now as the idea of bathing his bondmate was far too tempting of a turn on to ignore. "Let's get into the wash rack and get you cleaned up."

"Thanks," Prowl replied in relief. Finally! After an hour on the road sucking on Prime's exhaust fumes all the way back to the base he was going to get rid of this filth!

When Prowl turned to head for the wash room, Jazz broke down laughing.

"I fail to see the humor in this, Jazz!" Prowl snapped, turning on him.

"Sorry," Jazz giggled, reaching around and yanked the note that was stuck on Prowl's back. "Looks like Sunny got to you."

Prowl snatched the note right up.

"'Lost! Please direct to nearest carwash for wax and lub job,'" he read a loud then growled crumbling up the note. It was sent flying across the room.

"Come on lover, let's get you cleaned up," Jazz insisted, gently trying to coerce his bondmate to continue while at the same time being careful to not touch Prowl just yet. "Then we'll play a game of chess or something for you to unwind."

"Thanks Jazz that does sound very appealing."

Jazz smiled, watching Prowl walk as they headed into the washroom. Dirty or not, he loved the way his mech moved…always with purpose, with careful thought…graceful, flawless, no waste of energy. Oh yeah, Jazz was definitely going to get his sparkmate _**in**_ the mood, no way was he passing up this opportunity.

"Jazz, grab a couple of wash towels," Prowl said, setting the concoction from Wheeljack down while turning the solvent and hot water on. "It will be more efficient if we work together to get this stink off. Then you can work on my doorwings."

"Why not more? Then I could use two hands on ya!" Jazz smirked but Prowl didn't hear him.

The black and white mech had already immersed himself in the incredible warmth of the shower, greatly enjoying the feel of the solvent and hot water washing over his armor and in between the gaps to the underlying protoform. His optic covers closed slowly. A long sigh escaped him as he bowed his head, allowing the jetting fluid to massage the back of his neck.

Even his doorwings were beginning to feel better. Still sticky, but better. Prowl leaned forward, placing his hands on the wall and extending his wings back so the hot, soapy fluid hit them more directly. The left upper wing flapped lazily to and fro allowing to solvent to thicken. Then he repeated the same simple action with the right wing.

Again he sighed, relaxing even more, ever so slowly flexing and retracting his doorwings as the hot liquid caressed them. His anger and irritation from earlier was all but gone now allowing him to feel the jovial, deviant behavior of his mate filter through their intimate spark bond.

A soft moan escaped his vocal processor. This was just too good. He was quite content to continue standing there until he heard a crash followed by Jazz cursing softly. When Prowl straightened up and turned his head he saw Jazz sprawled out, face down on the floor with the majority of the wash towels and drying towels from the closet piled on him.

Prowl couldn't help but chuckle at the comical display and look of exasperation on his bonded's faceplates. To accentuate the moment, one more towel fell and landed on the silver mech's rising head, catching on one of his horns. Then it was promptly yanked off with a huff.

"Are you trying to tease me to death, Prowler? I nearly overloaded on the spot!"

"I'm just attempting to get cleaned up," Prowl smirked, purposely fluttering one of his doorwings.

"And there you go again!" Jazz exclaimed pushing himself up to his feet. "Ya know how much of a turn on those doorwings are for me!"

"I know," Prowl simply said but was giggling over their bond.

A wash towel hit him in the face a split astrosecond later making him laugh heartily.

"Well two can play at that game," Jazz harrumphed, snatching up a towel.

As the silver mech headed towards the shower he initiated the transformation sequence and all his battle armor slowly started to retract. Shifting. Sliding. Effortlessly breaking down to reveal the smaller mech's protoformed self. Short slender but powerful legs that gave him speed and agility. A somewhat broad chest framed with thick shoulders, biceps and forearms that were strong for scaling the sides of many buildings the saboteur had to infiltrate back on Cybertron. And small hands that knew just where and how to caress, poke, prod, feel…evoke…

Prowl felt his spark quicken and his interface systems heated up instantly. He opened his mouth to say something when he was startled by a high priority text message from Optimus that beeped loudly through his comlink system.

"Slag! What a mood killer!" Jazz growled.

"You got the message too?"

"Yeah," Jazz sighed, heading over. "Guess he and Elita will be _**busy**_ for a while. She's the only reason why he'd not want to be disturbed if the world was exploding around us."

"Agreed. It is highly probable since Optimus was as filthy as me after the…_**incident**_," Prowl sighed, deciding to make good use of the wash towel by starting to clean his arms. He actually felt disappointed that the mood was broken.

"You haven't told me what happened yet," Jazz spoke softly, cleaning Prowl's legs and making sure to get in between the gaps. He knew how thorough his love was about hygiene.

"This mess on me is _**his**_ fault. I swear this planet has turned him into a youngling at times! He blatantly disregarded my plan of action for dealing with the Decepticons and arrogantly ordered me to drop back saying that he could handle them."

"You didn't back off, did ya?"

"I'm second in command! It's my duty is to protect my Prime, even from himself at times. I sped up to cover his flank when he did this insane stunt I would have expected from Sunstreaker or Bumblebee! In the process smashed into my front bumper…which aches by the way…causing him to lose control. He was going over 100 miles an hour and was out of control fishtailing back and forth on the road."

"Chickens went flying. Eggs went flying…I got splattered with the majority of the egg slag. _**Then!**_ To make matters worse, the fragging 'Cons start shooting at _**me**_! I reacted accordingly and shot back. You know I rarely miss, Jazz. But of all times to miss it _**had**_ to be today. And in doing so, I destroyed a garbage truck that explode and sent garbage everywhere…well, mostly on Optimus. Then to top it all off, I got kicked from behind by a 'Con and landed face first in the garbage and laughed at by the fragger."

"The fragger being…?" Jazz inquired.

"The _**'Con**_! I swear Jazz, I don't think I've ever been so humiliated and pissed off at the same time before. And with all the garbage and egg yolk crusted on me I feel like shit!"

Jazz arched his optic ridges in surprise of his bondmate's use of Earth profanity. He was really ticked off! Even his beautiful doorwings were trembling from his re-agitated state. Jazz quickly formulated a plan and acted…accordingly.

"Relax Prowler, let me ease that tension right out of ya," he purred, rising up. Prowl made a move to turn but Jazz put a hand on his hip suggesting he be still. "Shh, babe, relax. Don't move one nut or bolt. I'll take care of everything."

"Jazz, I…"

"Trust me," he whispered into his lover's audio receptor.

Prowl nodded. An astrosecond later he felt the gently rhythmic magnetic pulses slowly travel up his spinal column relays. The soothing pulses crept up to the base of his wing joints, teasing them into wanting more when Jazz moved his hand back down Prowl's spine. When the saboteur did the same thing again, Prowl let his sparkmate know exactly how he felt about his wings being teased over their bond.

"Sorry love," Jazz chuckled softly complying with his lovers demand.

The effect of the mag pulses was almost immediate. A loud moan sounded as the doorwings and shoulders of the black and white mech noticeably relaxed. A wave of contentment and pure affection flowed over their bond making Jazz smile, reciprocating the love and adoration he felt for Prowl.

Now with his lover in a compliant and relaxed state, Jazz gently maneuvered them under the hot liquid and began the ritual of bathing he rarely got a chance to do to his lover. Prowl was never one for long bathing sessions…not efficient with the work load he had to shoulder on a regular basis.

"Close your optics," he requested. "And let me do all the work."

Prowl complied then half smiled when he felt two wash towels gently kneading his helm. There was no rush, no sense of urgency in Jazz's hand movements as he worked his head, face and sensitive red chevron. Although Prowl could feel a subtle twinge of anxiousness from the silver mech over their bond.

The magnetic pulses started up again as Jazz working on Prowl's neck and shoulders. Again he moaned, feeling those knowing fingers of his love sliding beneath his shoulder armor. Prowl felt himself relaxing even more, even leaning into Jazz's touch.

Primus, it'd bee far too long since Prowl was this relaxed. He made a mental note to make sure he asks Jazz to do this at least once a month. Well…maybe twice a month.

A soft whimper sounded from Prowl's vocal process when Jazz moved on to washing his arms. The mech couldn't help it. The sound kind of formed on its own. As compensate, his spark was instantly caressed and soothed affectionately.

Prowl opened his optic covers to see a look of concentration on Jazz's face plates as he meticulously cleaned Prowl's forearm armor. His optics roved over the sleek protoform of his mate, making him sigh. It was times like this when he truly appreciated how blessed and lucky he was to have Jazz in his life. More so since his arrival on Earth shortly after the battle at Mission City where his bonded was killed. Prowl wasn't one to believe in miracles but when Ratchet was able to rebuild Jazz and bring him back, he believe anything was possible.

"So handsome…so beautiful," he whispered, the back of his fingers tenderly caressing Jazz's cheek.

The silver mech smiled, leaning into Prowl's affections, "You pretty good lookin yourself there lover. But I thought I told you to not move one nut or bolt."

"Oh…sorry," Prowl smirked, returning his hand to his side as Jazz started cleaning his chest armor.

"That grin there makes you look sexy. You should flash it more often," Jazz smiled, making Prowl laugh and blush.

"I'll make note of that," he replied then suddenly hissed and snatched Jazz by the wrist, pulling his one hand away.

"Slag, sorry babe!" Jazz said, quickly using his other hand directing a comforting mag pulses into the damaged armor. Prowl let go and started to relax again much to Jazz's relief. "Sorry, you did say it still hurt. Better now?"

"Much…thank you," Prowl sighed.

Jazz went back to bathing Prowl, being extra careful about the scrape on his chest armor. One thing Jazz couldn't stand was his mech in pain. Even a little pain. This was just a little pain but Jazz felt incredibly guilty for accidentally hurting Prowl. He loved the mech far too much.

"Shh, I'm fine Jazz," Prowl cooed, caressing Jazz's face again, staring at him with such warmth and affection.

Jazz nodded then smiled, "Let's clean that slag off your doorwings now."

Prowl turned around and presented his doorwings accordingly to Jazz. The silver mech loved this new appendages compared to the ones Prowl had back on Cybertron. This had more style and flare. And many times really showed the emotion of the black and white mech.

Still, they were sensitive and Jazz took great care whenever he dealt with them.

First he cleaned them both gently with the wash towels. Then he rinsed them off before applying Wheeljack's concoction. Whatever was in it definitely made Jazz's job easier as he was able to wipe away the sticky yolk residue with ease. However, the liquids ingredients wreaked! But Jazz wasn't about to complain since it meant he got to clean those beautiful wings again.

This time he gave Prowl a treat and was rewarded for his efforts.

Prowl's engine started to rumble softly while Jazz made delicate circular motions over the left doorwing with the wash towel, sending rippling mag pulses at the same time. The sound was somewhat akin to the satiated purr of a kitten which seemed to jump start Jazz's interface systems.

By the time he moved to the right doorwing, his process felt foggy yet he'd become acutely attune to the feel of the hot liquid spraying over them. The way the fluid flowed over and trickled down Prowl's wings and back armor. Then there were intermittent soft, gently touches from his lovers fingers the felt on his arm…his hand…his hip.

In his befuddled stated he didn't notice that Prowl had turned around and turned the solvent off. It was the sound of Prowl's transformations that lulled Jazz out of the haze some what to realize that his sparkmate had shed all his armor. Jazz was staring into the handsome face that only he was privileged to see. Before he could react, long slender strong arms pulled Jazz into an embrace.

"Thank you for the cleaning, Jazz," Prowl said, his tone dropping lower than usual, making Jazz go weak in the knees. "Now let me do something for you."

Jazz felt his spark whirl around in its chamber excitedly when their lips met briefly.

Prowl chuckled softly sensing his sparkmates excitement. While Jazz was bathing him he realized that the silver mech was always doing things for him. Little things, processor blowing things. Prowl was never one to be as spontaneous as Jazz but since arriving on Earth and researching the many ways humans tend to spice up their love life, he new now would be as good as time as any to try something new.

"What?" Jazz smirked as Prowl turned the water off.

"What do you mean what?" Prowl asked, feigning innocence.

"You're up to something."

"I just want to make love to my spark mate," Prowl countered, leading them out of the wash room.

"And…" Jazz said while his spark was probing at Prowl, trying to get him to confess what he was hiding!

Knowing he'd break any moment, Prowl kissed Jazz, forcing his tongue into his lover's mouth. Honestly, it was the only way to shut up Jazz and keep from talking at the same time. And it worked too for Jazz decided to drop it.

The two kissed each other passionately, caressing, stroking, fondling each other. Together they toppled onto the bed. Jazz thought he had the advantage when he pinned Prowl down. He thought wrong!

Prowl clutched Jazz by the aft roughly with one hand, even squeezed it making the silver mech cry out in ecstasy. Then used his other arm to roll them over, firmly pinned Jazz to the berth. His hips thrust aggressively at the smaller mech's over and over, repeatedly forcing their interface panels to grind against each other, doing anything to keep Jazz more compliant. He had to as Jazz was a rather aggressive berth partner, always the one to initiate, always the one give first before taking. It didn't matter if he was on top or bottom either.

"Oh…ok…" Jazz panted, between hot and heavy kisses. He was greatly aroused by such a show of dominance from Prowl. Normally they took turns being on top. It was Jazz's turn but Prowl was being rather insistent. "I can take a hint, Prowler."

"Good," Prowl grinned during one last kiss. "Now don't move. Allow me to do this for you."

Jazz raised an optic ridge at him, curious about what his sparkmate was doing. But he did as he was told wanting to find out because whatever it was got Prowl all excited!

"So…I'll just lay here?" Jazz questioned when Prowl leapt off the bed.

"Don't move!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"What a view!" Jazz whistled, seeing that hot aft disappear from their bedroom.

"**PERVERT**!" came the shout from another room.

"**ME! YOU'RE THE PERVE! I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING AT WHEN I'M DANCING! AND IT'S NOT MY HIPS OR MY HANDSOME FACE!**"

Prowl's laughter filtered through their bond as Jazz lay there. While waiting he deactivated his comlink. He didn't bother telling anyone since he was off duty. They could leave him a message and he'd retrieve it later. He wasn't going to risk being interrupted with Prowl in such a good mood!

Thankfully, Jazz didn't have to wait long!

"Close your optics," Prowl said, leaning against the door jam with one arm behind his back.

"What you got behind your back, Prowler?"

"Close your optics Jazz," Prowl repeated slowly, dropping his voice.

Jazz trembled with excitement and quickly complied, anxiously waiting.

"Don't move," Prowl whispered suddenly so close to Jazz. "And no peeking."

The mech's spark fluttered wildly! He didn't even hear Prowl move across the room! And now his strong hands were on him, maneuvering him on the bed to whatever position Prowl had in mind.

"You're so beautiful…Jazz," he whispered, trailing his fingers enticingly up Jazz's chest.

"So ya are going to tease me to death," Jazz gasped, moving into Prowl's touch.

"I'm not the tease that you are. You know that," he countered, quietly attaching the maximum security restraint to the railing on the headboard of their berth.

Once that was done he left the other cuff open and grabbed the other restraints he brought and did the same thing with them. Then he gently straddled Jazz.

"Mmm, you're interface panel's hot, love. Let me do something about that," Jazz remarked, sending a heated passionate love surge over their bond while caressing Prowl's thighs, hoping to break his mate.

"Tempting but I have something else in mind for us today," Prowl shuddered, forcing himself to not give in. It was _**so**_ tempting! Jazz had a way with those hands that almost made Prowl want to forget about his plan. _**Almost**_. "Give me your hands."

Jazz had that slag eating smirk on his face when he felt Prowl grab his wrists. Little did he realize that his sparkmate was about to perform one move he was most well known for. The double clicking sound and feel of metal around his wrists at the same time made Jazz open his optics in a flash.

"What the...?!" Jazz started, his processor still trying to comprehend just what the frag happened! He looked up to see maximum security restraints on his wrists and jiggled them thinking he was imaging things.

"Oh, you won't be able to get out of those," Prowl smirked, pinning his mate to the berth with all his weight, press his chest against Jazz's. "You helped me design those, to make them inescapable. Remember?"

Jazz's optics widened in surprise. Oh slag!

"Don't worry love," Prowl purred, kissing and nuzzling against Jazz's audio receptor. "I promise I won't bite…_**hard**_."

Prowl didn't give him a chance to think about it! He was all over him, bombarding all his mate's most sensual hot zones. Grabbing his small, tight aft. Nibbling on his sensitive neck. Slow, calculated pelvic thrusts designed to stimulate their already overheated extra sensitive interface systems even more.

The saboteur couldn't believe it! He was outdone! Not that he'd ever complain about Prowl as an interface partner. Primus, the mech was a very attentive and affectionate lover. It was always Jazz who suggested new ways of doing it. But this…this with the restraints never crossed his processor because he never believed that his Prowl would go for such a…kinky move.

And Jazz was enjoying every astrosecond of it. Kissing Prowl's face or head, whatever he could reach with his lips since he couldn't use his hands. His body writhed as much as it could and hips lunged up beneath is mate's.

Frag! Those restraints were too much of a turn on! Jazz could feel he was going to overload soon. Way too soon as Prowl was just getting warmed up!

"Prowl…babe…" he panted heavily, trying to hold of his impending overload.

"Yes, Jazz," he drawled out, nibbling affectionately on the silver mech's jaw, grinding his hips against his lover.

"You've…oh slag…Prowl…I'm about to overload here real soon. Like…any moment. And I don't want to yet. Not without you."

"Overload! Already?" Prowl asked in surprise, lifting his face up to see the strain on his sparkmate's face. Judging by how fast Jazz was panting he was indeed close to overloading.

"Oh yeah…you've done a superb job love and I thought I was going to give one processor blowing overload today," Jazz chuckled.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to over do it," Prowl frowned, stopping everything he was doing.

"No, no, no! Don't misunderstand me!" Jazz quickly said. "What ya did was...well ya totally threw me for a loop! I wasn't expecting it and it was great! I mean, everything you've been doing is truly wonderful and I've enjoyed it immensely. I would even love for us to continue and even do it again this way."

"But I haven't even finished."

Oh slag. Jazz realized he should have just kept his mouth shut! He was in serious danger of bruising Prowl's mechhood here!

"Jazz, I love you. I know I have…limitations. And…"

"Prowl, if those limitations were a hindrance in anyway I wouldn't have bonded with ya!" Jazz said seriously. "I love ya babe. I love that ya went out of your way to come up with this. And when it comes to our relationship, intimate or other, ya have never left me wanting more than what I've got right here in my arms…or more accurately draped over my _**hot**_ body."

Prowl snorted, nuzzling his nose against Jazz's, shuttering his optics.

"Sorry, if I killed the moment there," Jazz sighed, more out of relief than anything. That was close! He almost blew it!

"You didn't kill it. I still want you," Prowl said bashfully, even blushing slightly.

"I'm all yours to do with as you please. You can even take the restraints off. And I promise next time to keep my stupid mouth shut."

"Deal," he sighed, reaching up and undoing the restraints, not taking his optics of Jazz. Ever the attentive lover, he pulled each wrist to his lips and massaged them gently. "They weren't too tight were they?"

"Nah. Next time maybe just use one set and loop it around before ya cuff me."

"Ok," Prowl chuckled. "So, where was I?"

"Doesn't matter…just frag me now!" he exclaimed pulling his lover's face closer for a deep kiss.

Their waned passion was quick to rekindle. Prowl picked up where he left off. Except this time, he could feel Jazz's hands caressing his back or even grabbing his aft every so often. Only once Jazz seemed stimulated up enough, did Prowl slowly move down the smaller mech's chest to the reminder and main reason for his actions in the berth today.

Warm lips ever so tenderly pressed against the start of the scar that stretched across Jazz's abdomen. Jazz flinched putting a hand on Prowl's head. This time Prowl sent a reassuring sense of love and affection over their bond as his lips trailed slowly along terrible scar that, to Prowl, took nothing away from the beauty of his mech.

"Every day since you were brought back to me is a blessing Jazz," he sighed when he looked up, resting his chin on his hand that lay flat on Jazz's stomach. "I've changed because of it. I swear the love I have for you now…it's too much…there are times I can't contain it."

"No Prowl, you haven't changed," Jazz smiled fondly, caressing Prowl's gorgeous face. "You're still the same mech I fell in love with. Here on Earth you have just let others see the mech I saw every day back on Cybertron behind closed doors."

"You mean I'm not as uptight?"

"No, you're still that," Jazz chuckled. "You're just more open with your affections towards me."

"Oh…like that kiss in the rec room?" he asked, resuming his affectionate kisses.

"And the way you grabbed my aft when we walked out of Optimus' off."

Prowl giggled, "I surprised you with that one. I thought you were going to jump through the ceiling."

"Hmm…that's the spot," Jazz suddenly moaned.

"Here?" Prowl smirked, sliding his finger around the panel covering Jazz's cylinder chamber just above his interface panel.

Jazz moved restlessly under Prowl's light touch, thrusting upwards, wanting more. A mech's cylinder chamber wasn't any where near as sensitive as a femme's interface port...unless damaged then it could cause pain to a mech's interface rod that rested just beneath it. Yet, it could be sensitive enough to bring a mech to overload if his interface systems were activated.

From experience…Jazz had one of the most sensitive cylinder chambers Prowl ever encountered, almost as sensitive as a femme's port.

"Stop teasing me," Jazz moaned, retracting the panel.

"Holy frag, Jazz!" Prowl laughed, when thick, warm lubricant crested at the rim of the cylinder chamber.

"I told ya I was close to overloading! Now…ahh…you fragger!"

Jazz moaned and squirmed as Prowl inserted two fingers into the chamber, making sure to slowly slide them firmly along the chamber's wall. The smell of lubricant and the sound of Jazz's pleasurable moans were enticing and the black and white mech felt his interface panel eagerly retract.

"Prowler…please," Jazz pleaded, one hand cupping the back of Prowl's head.

"My beautiful Jazz," he murmured, placing soft affectionate kiss on his stomach, another one on his chest until he was now hovering over his lover. "Anything for you."

Not wanting to make his lover wait much longer, Prowl reached between them and positioned his interface rod at the rim of Jazz's cylinder chamber then slowly started to slip inside.

"Ah…Prowler…" Jazz gasped.

Prowl moaned into the side of Jazz's neck, driving his hips, plunging his interface rod in deeper and deeper until he was in completely. The chamber was already so lubricated that Prowl's effortlessly glided in and out, slowly over and over. Everything else fell away from his senses and the only thing that existed for him was the mech beneath him and the sensual feelings coursing through his body.

Hot lips crushed against each other with a hungry passion. Desperate hands caressed, stroked, grabbed, and squeezed anything and everything they could touch. The soft metal skin of rising hips banged against the soft metal skin of downward thrusting hips over and over, quicker and quicker, hard and harder.

The saboteur loved this dance with is sparkmate. Whether in their protoforms or in their battle armor, they were always in perfect rhythm, always in perfect tune. Prowl's moans, gasps and cries were always such sweet music to Jazz's ears because he knew such sounds was only for his audio receptors and no others.

"Prowl…" he voice quivered, his overload was imminent. The sweet burning sensation of his interface systems was so close to peaking.

"I'm almost there Jazz," Prowl panted, thrusting harder…faster…grunting almost growling each time he pinned Jazz down roughly with each powerful jerk of his hips.

"I…frag…I can't hold back…"

Jazz suddenly let out a cry of pure ecstasy, arching his body hard into Prowl's chest.

"OH JAZZ!" Prowl cried out, collapsing onto his sparkmate as his overload ripped through this form right after Jazz's own overload occurred.

Affectionate lips somehow found each other during this moment of rapture and pure bliss. Arms and legs flexed then curled around the other's forms. The only sounds reverberating off the walls were their heavy breathing, moist kisses, and soft murmurs of love and adoration each held for the other.

"Wow," Jazz finally exhaled after they stopped panting.

"Wow indeed," Prowl agreed, planting small kissing on Jazz's shoulder, enjoying the feel of his mate's overheated body pinned beneath him.

"Ya blew my processor…and then some!"

Prowl laughed lifting his head up to look into Jazz's optics. He didn't need to see the happy face on his sparkmate for he felt it through their bond. But he liked looking just the same. It was like a reward for his efforts…a moment he treasured and savored after each interface or bonding session.

Jazz caressed the relaxed face of his love, his Prowler. The mech looked most beautiful after an overload for he wasn't bothered with his duty as second in command. At the moment he was just a mech in love and the only thing that mattered at the moment was the two of them.

"If you're going to lay on me all day I hope you have enough energy to do that again," Jazz smirked, playfully bucking his hips.

"Sorry," Prowl dopily grinned then slowly withdrew his interface rod from Jazz's cylinder chamber. Once all the way out, he flopped onto his back beside Jazz and glanced down at his interface rod. "Frag Jazz…I'm going to need another shower! I've got your lubricant all over me."

"I'm in the same predicament man!"

Prowl raised his head up enough to glance over and see the slick lubricant smear over Jazz's lower abdomen.

"Did you have to produce so much of it?" Prowl asked, laying back down.

"It's your fault for turning me on like that!" Jazz exclaimed, playfully slapping his mate's chest.

With Prowl's quick reflexes he grabbed Jazz's hand and pulled him onto his chest, then wrapped his arm around him, holding him close.

"And I'd do it again," he smiled affectionate, trailing a finger slowly down the contour's of Jazz's face.

"Promise?"

"Anything for you, Jazz."


End file.
